


Why Batman Got an Encrypted Audio Message That Was Just a Recording of "Papa Don't Preach".

by Swankyo0



Series: HeadCanon Accepted [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Tim is a little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:56:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9805622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swankyo0/pseuds/Swankyo0
Summary: So, my sister texts me: Imagine. Bruce gets an audio message from an encrypted number and it's just Papa Don't Preach and he has to frantically figure out which batkid sent it and if they were serious or not. I decided on Tim, because he is tech savvy, and he is a little shit.





	

Tim was just minding his own business (yes, he can do that, thank you Jay) , getting some coffee. He's in line, two people ahead of him and several still behind. It's obviously a busy shift and there is only one kid behind the register. The douche right behind Tim is an epic asshole. Already harassing the kid about being too slow, too talkative, too nice. It's really getting on Tim's nerves, but he's not Jason, he can hold his tongue and his temper. When the guy starts in on the kid's gender it gets a personal, but it seems like this is a regular occurrence. The woman at the register now is asking the kid if they want her to complain about the douche to the manager for them, again, the businessman directly in front of Tim is rolling his eyes, obviously annoyed but not uncomfortable. Once the kid declines the woman's offer it's like a green light has been lit on interaction with the asshole. Both the woman and the businessman tell him to knock it off, someone in the back of the line tells him to take a hike. Behind him, Tim hears the guy grumble and mutter but he settles down. 

Tim places his order and steps aside with his receipt, like a well mannered customer should- yes, Bruce, even Tim can wait patiently for coffee. The man steps up to the counter and immediately snarls that he wants another barista, he "doesn't want no queer making his coffee or getting his money". Tim prepares himself to step in again, but this time the kid beats him to it, telling the man in no uncertain terms that if he is unhappy with the service here he is welcome to go elsewhere. Again, the man grumbles but quiets down. That is, until his card declines. Twice.

The man is furious, certain that the kid behind the counter is messing with the machine, demanding to speak to a manager. The kid rolls his eyes, the first sign of real frustration yet, before explaining that he is the manager, and if the card doesn't run then it's cash or no coffee. The man stomps his foot on the way out like a toddler.

And Tim wouldn't have even noticed it, if his order hadn't been up right at that moment. The kid behind the asshole is just slipping her phone back into her purse as Tim turns to grab his coffee. His fingers slip when he catches sight the screen and the coffee goes down. He morns the coffee unblinkingly while his brain connects with what he has just seen.

To anyone else it would have just looked like a silly game. A red box at the top of the screen, arrow pointing down to another box, this one green. Little animated dollar bills had been flying around the green box and a yellow check mark was flashing in the corner with a "transfer complete" message.

Just a game. Except the asshole's first name was in the red box and the green said "Matches Malone". Maybe someone else might not have thought about it, but Tim knows. Because for the past couple of months there have been strange and completely encrypted deposits into the Matches accounts. Bruce had been going crazy trying to figure out the why and how of them. Each one had come from an ordinary citizen's account, and each one had been flagged by the GCPD. The money was always returned, after a few weeks of the account holder proving that no, they did not authorize a transfer of all their funds to a local mob boss.

Tim's brain was still trying to put it all together when the young woman handed him her cup. "Here, take this. You'll thank me." She blinked at him, obviously confused by his loss of motor skills. "Unless you have diabetes. Don't drink that if you have diabetes." Tim took a sip by reflex, trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

"Nice app," he finally said, because he's a smooth interrogator. She blinked at him again. "Uh," she said. He decided to wait her out. It took a lot of control. Jay would never have lasted. Neither would Dick. The less said about Damian the better. 

"It's actually not just an app. It's a hardware upgrade, of a sort." He kept staring. "Ok, look, I just can't stand that kind of assholery. So I boosted up the scan on the phone so it can read cards. When someone is being a total jerk I scan their card and transfer their money somewhere else." She was sweating now. "It's not permanent, couple weeks tops! He totally deserved it!"

His replacement order came up just then and she grabbed at it, taking a sip in what appeared to be a desperate attempt to stop talking. Tim decided to give her a break. Kind of. "Why did it say Matches Malone?"

"What? Oh, that. I don't know. But I didn't want to use something good, like a charity, cause it would suck when they got the money back if the charity lost it, but I also didn't want to use something really bad because I'm not really prepared to find out my little revenge got someone killed or something, you know? And Matches isn't that bad of a guy, really. It's kinda weird, really. Like, he's not really a criminal, I don't think. Maybe he's an undercover cop or something. Oh god!" Her face went pale, as if her mind had just caught up with her mouth. "Are YOU a cop? Is this an interrogation? Please don't arrest me! I'm only 15, my whole life ahead of me. I won't survive the clink."

Tim couldn't help but laugh. He clasped a hand on the girl's shoulder, leading her away from the counter and over to one of the tables. "I like you, kid" he smirked. "We should continue this conversation. But first, I got to make a phone call."


End file.
